


Fiddauthor Fun

by yourlocalmemedealer4



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Bill makes this a love triangle, Bondage kink, Boss/Employee Relationship, Dom/sub, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Praise Kink, Rough Sex, Smut, snuggles, they get married
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:42:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27186737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yourlocalmemedealer4/pseuds/yourlocalmemedealer4
Summary: A big ol collection of stories for my favorite ship, Fiddauthor. Topics range from fluff, to smut, to angst.
Relationships: fiddauthor
Kudos: 7





	Fiddauthor Fun

**Author's Note:**

> Stanford reflects on his past mistakes...and his sex life lol

“Now approaching: Lower Floor Two.”

The doors to the elevator opened up, allowing the tall 72-year-old man to exit into his private study. Thirty years of absence had coated the desks, carpets, and knicknacks in a thick layer of dust. Ford observed the room, taking a look at the destroyed memory scanner. He would have to repair this at some point. 

Ford’s private study was always a safe haven for himself, one where he hid his deepest, darkest secrets. Unfortunately, his great-nephew had come across one of them when they were attempting to erase Bill Cipher out of their minds. His obsession with the demon that had escalated into full-on worship. The proof of his declining sanity, on display for all to see. He snarled upon seeing those damn tapestries he had made. God, how could he have been such a fool?

And yet, with all the terrible memories that this room held, there were a few more pleasant ones as well. Ford dug around in the drawers for his hidden key, the one that unlocked the safe in the room. Opening it revealed a collection of photographs, drawings, letters and other mementos from his first serious relationship. His one and only true love, Fiddleford Mcgucket. 

Those were better times. The early days, back in college, their first kiss at that music festival, and later on, raising Tate at the cabin after Fiddleford’s wife filed for a divorce. The times that he felt like that he was actually a part of something. The times that he felt as if he had a family. 

Then there was their sexual experiences. Despite Ford being an awkward, sweaty virgin at first, he evolved into a more dominant role in the relationship. He remembered a lot of those nights in this room fondly-him grasping Fiddleford’s neck and slamming his cock deep into his ass, bent over him so he could praise his little slut, the sound of wet skin slapping against each other mixed in with their moans and grunts of pure, unadulterated pleasure. 

Yes, those were the days. He and Fiddleford were inseparable. The only thing that would’ve made everything perfect was if Stanley was in the picture somehow-but Stanford couldn’t bring himself to contact his brother again, no matter how much Fiddleford encouraged him to.

And then, there was the portal. Fiddleford’s glimpse into the multiverse drove him to madness, running away from Ford and taking his son with him. Ford, as well, was driven mad by Bill’s chaos, trying so hard to keep the demon from controlling him any more, to no avail. His last resort, calling Stanley, hadn’t worked out either-he was shoved into his creation, leaving him vulnerable to the multiverse and its terrors. 

Inbetween universes, Ford had definitely not been sexually inactive. He had experienced many one night stands, slightly less than consensual encounters, and even a serious relationship with another man for a short period of time. But he could never be happy. Through all the years, he wondered where Fiddleford was. What was he doing now? Where was Tate? Was he alright too? Were they even alive? He had once brought the subject up to the family, but they had simply avoided the topic entirely. 

Ford felt his heart ache. Even if by some miracle Fiddleford was still alive and well, would he even want to see him? He probably despised him for what he had done. And Tate...the poor kid. His stomach churned, he simply couldn’t look at this anymore. 

Ford longed for simpler times, longed for those days where the family would just go out on picnics in the forest together. He missed feeding Tate’s pet Plaidypus, and doodling portraits of his boyfriend in the margins of his notes. A single tear fell down his cheek, but he wiped it away rather quickly. He reminded himself not to show weakness. To stay strong. He pulled a flask of whiskey out of his trenchcoat’s pocket. If he could go back and fix every stupid mistake, he would. Even if he had to sacrifice everything. 

God, if only it were that easy.


End file.
